Tiene sat at one of the booths in Capital Inn with a bottle of Brightsong Wine, a third of it already gone. She sat swilling the wine around in her glass, almost mesmerised by the warm peach colour of the liquid.

The alcohol was to relax her for the imminent return of her Guild Master and now lover. He would be hungry no doubt, ravenous, and not for anything the inn nor the kitchens in the guild could rustle up neither. Even though she had a better understanding of his demands now, she was still nonetheless, a little nervous.

Her visit to Aledine the day before had been - informative. As well as slightly embarrassing, shocking at times, and at one point hilariously funny. The madame had taken her through a passage in her 'house of sinful pleasures'. Those of a particular persuasion could observe the experts of love at work through little windows.

At first Tiene knew not where to look, her face had gone about fifty shades of red, but Aledine, with her incredibly seductive and provocative abilities, managed to make Tiene overcome her shyness, and, in the end, she became a studious voyeur.

Tiene confided in Aledine but demanded she told no-one, particularly not her brother, Ianris.

There had been no need to insist on secrecy with Aledine, however. The madame explained an establishment such as hers was regularly privy to hearing many incredible things, all in various degrees of severity. It was the second-best place to confess your sins, she said, the first, being the church. Confidentiality was guaranteed.

Aledine had looked at Tiene with immeasurable sorrow when she'd found out about Camnath; the very boy Tiene had spoken of a year ago, had been the one who was humiliated by Tiene's duplicitous Guild Master.

On hearing how Tiene was planning to handle the situation, however, she had voiced concerns. Pleasuring the man who had deflowered her would be easy enough, she'd said, but the emotional hell it could involve was an entirely different ballgame, one which Aledine expressed should not be overlooked. Tiene was resolute; she refused to allow Sauren to think he had won.

But, she then told the madame - without going into detail - there was more involved than just a personal vendetta. It was now political, and something which could affect them all, even friends and family in Quel'thalas.

And so, her lessons began. Aledine had known many men with similar tastes to Sauren. The fun part was turning the tables - changing who ended up in the dominant role.

According to Aledine, an insatiable brute with a need to control in the boudoir could so easily be made putty in one's hands with a little know-how. In this case, though, she'd advised, it would be prudent to take one's time - too soon a change may make him suspicious. "He has, after all, taken your virginity," the madame said, as delicately as possible. "You are, therefore, a novice, and cannot instantly be an expert in the art of sexual pleasure. That would make him suspicious, Tiene, with a myriad of ridiculous explanations spinning in his twisted mind."

Tiene needed to make his greatest weakness one of her strengths, but it would take time, Aledine advised. Tiene understood, and she cared not how long it took, as long as everything came together as planned.

And that was in as much as Aledine could assist the young elf. The other issues she planned were outwith her line of expertise. The bringing down of an empire more or less was not something in which the madame dabbled.

Raising her glass with deference to the absent madame, Tiene drained her glass then poured some more wine. A glimpse of a colourful waistcoat to her left drew her attention. She smiled. Louvel was back in town.

It had been some months since he was here. Tiene had not been at her best the last time they'd met. Her current status was not great either, but at least he could not 'see' that, unlike her broken arm and dislocated shoulder of months before.

"Drinking alone?" he asked as he approached her booth.

"Hopefully not anymore," she replied, standing to greet him. A hesitant moment passed, and then they hugged.

He turned and called for another glass and bottle of wine. The barmaid quickly arrived with his order.

Popping the cork, Louvel looked at Tiene as she drained her glass. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she put the empty glass on the table and proceeded to refill it. She caught him looking at her neck. Absentmindedly, she adjusted her scarf.

But she'd noticed how his jaw tightened. Did he know? She wondered. He was friends with Sauren, had been since they were boys, he must know, she surmised. But, she knew this eccentric individual in front of her was also a very different class of person to her Guild Master. And she liked this man. He had a good heart, of that she was sure.

He raised his glass to her and took a sip. "So, you are ahead of me," he said, pointing to her wine. "I shall have to do some serious catching up."

Tiene smiled. "Shouldn't take you long, this is only my first bottle."

"To the next bottle then." He drained his glass and quickly topped it up, repeating the process until his bottle and glass were at the same level as Tiene's. "So, how's your training coming along?" he asked.

"Good," she replied. "I understand now why some menial tasks are fundamental in helping improve the skills of a rogue."

"That is true, yes. It all contributes to our abilities. And missions? Are you doing some?"

"Yes. They are fun."

"Fun? Well, I've never heard anyone call them fun, exactly. Tiring, yes. Exciting perhaps. Dangerous, occasionally, but fun?" He grinned, his green eyes twinkling.

"The dangerous ones are reserved for my third, possibly fourth year," she said.

"Assassinations, you mean?"

"Yes." She drained another glass and brought the empty down hard on the table. Her response had been a little sharp, and she saw it had not escaped Louvel's notice - his expression was one of concern and quiet understanding. He knows, she deduced. The fact he did not ask the unthinkable but instead was making small-talk, alleviated Tiene of embarrassment - for this she was grateful.

"Quite a while to go yet, before then," he said.

She nodded, topping up her glass.

He snatched the bottle from her. She stared at him, indignant. He looked back with a haughty lift of his chin. "Your journey to drunken oblivion can continue after some conversation, young lady."

Her nose scrunched up, neither in agreement nor to argue.

"And we will eat now, Tiene," he said, signalling for the waitress to bring menus.

"You eat?" Tiene said with a smirk.

Louvel looked at her, a smile spreading across his lips. "Not very often no, but I will make an exception in your case," he replied.

"Fair enough." She laughed. "It is probably a wise decision, certainly."

The waitress arrived - the same girl who had served Tiene the first day she had come to the inn with Sauren. Tiene once again checked her scarf was not revealing what she was trying to conceal. The waitress's eyes widened slightly. Tiene quickly looked away as the girl, without comment, resumed her duties.

Louvel fixed his monocle firmly in place and studied the menu. "How does the special of the day sound, Tiene? My treat by the way," he said.

"What is it?" Tiene asked, avoiding looking back at the waitress.

"Cooked Glossy Mightfish," he told her, "served with seasonal vegetables and creamy potatoes." Then looking at the waitress, he asked, "I take it the fish is caught locally?"

"I believe so, sir, yes. Hinterlands, I think."

"Close enough," he affirmed. "Yes, we'll have that I think. Thank you."

The waitress disappeared to the kitchens with their order. Tiene needed another drink and looked at her glass, then at Louvel.

He sighed, "Alright, have a sip, but go easy. I am hoping for good conversation as well as enjoying having a drinking companion."

They did not have too long to wait for their meal. One did not overcook this fish, it was expensive, and the inn could not afford for such a dish to go unpaid for by a disgruntled customer.

In an attempt to keep up good camaraderie, Tiene asked Louvel if he had managed to visit home and see his family.

He was happy to report he had - four times since last they met. His son Lewis, he stated, had been over the moon to see his father and they had gone fishing and hunting together.

Lewis had even tried his hand at carving figures in wood; like Louvel used to do for him when he was a child. The boy was quite good at it, Louvel enthused, although his subjects were a little 'odd' for wood-carving, he thought. His son also liked to add colour and had painted some in their natural hues. He put his hand in his pocket and produced one of Lewis' creations.

Tiene put down her fork as he held the figure before her eyes. She took it from him and studied it silently, her eyes glistening. The little butterfly in its reds and golds enchanted her. Carefully, she turned it over and over in her hands.

"You like that, don't you?" Louvel asked.

"Yes. I do," Tiene replied, unbidden tears threatening to surface.

"You may keep it if you wish," he said. "I have another one he made which I will keep."

"Are you sure?" she asked. Louvel's generosity overcame her.

"Yes, Tiene. I am." He patted her hand. "And I'm sure Lewis will be thrilled to know a lovely young woman was so astounded by his work."

"Thank you," she said - her voice just a whisper. She lay the carving gently on the table beside her plate then resumed eating her meal while looking at the butterfly.

Louvel cleared his throat. "Do you know, Tiene, I once met an extraordinary being who said he came from a distant land."

She looked up at Louvel, instantly intrigued. "What was so extraordinary about it?" she asked.

"Well, he was a traveller and rode the most ridiculous looking mount you ever saw. It was a giant turtle."

"Really? A turtle?"

"Yes. And oh boy, it could move; it was not as sluggish as you would have thought."

"What was his name?"

"The turtle? I don't know," he said, with a smirk and shovelling some creamy potato in his mouth.

Tiene laughed. He was teasing her.

"His name was Shing Windpaw," Louvel continued with a smile. "- and he was a monk from a contingent known as the Shado-Pan. I had never heard of them and knew not from whence he came."

Tiene felt like a little girl once more, remembering the bedtime stories her father used to tell her. "Go on, Louvel! Tell me more," she pleaded.

Laying his cutlery down, the noble rogue dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin before he proceeded. "Well, Shing said his home was a mystical place called Pandaria, where beautiful lush meadows and forests stretched up to majestic mountains covered in snow.

"Huge serpents filled the skies. And certain clans had these serpents as mounts. Mystical temples were situated in particular areas of the land, and celestial bodies of immense power blessed the people with gifts of strength, wisdom, vitality. But above all - hope. They instilled them with the belief that faith in family and honour were what made us all strong."

Tiene was wide-eyed, utterly captivated. Louvel gestured to her plate to encourage her to keep eating. She did so, but remained fixed on him, waiting for him to carry on with his story.

He sipped his wine and continued. "This monk was also an astounding fighter with skills the likes of which you have never witnessed, Tiene. He could leap great heights in which he seemed suspended in time before he crashed down and knocked enemies flying like they were grains of sand you kick up while running on a beach. One punch from him and you were into next week!"

Tiene leaned further over the table, her tunic almost dipping into her plate of fish and creamed potatoes.

Louvel carried on. "He only ever fought, though, if the situation could not be resolved through other means. Most surprising of all, were methods he used in which could render his opponent -paralysed. It was fascinating to watch, Tiene.

"One minute they were slashing, or punching, shouting at the tops of their voices, charging at Shing as if they were going to knock him off the face of Azeroth. But, then, with one swift move - pow! They were immobilised. Couldn't move a muscle, only their eyes, and mouths if they were lucky.

"Some, he left like that and walked away. They would eventually die, but it was a slow death. Others, he paralysed just long enough to tell them the errors of their ways, watching the realisation on their faces that the end was nigh. And then - he'd punch or kick - once - and they were dead."

The waitress arrived to check if they were enjoying their meal. Her arrival snapped Tiene out of her trance-like state, and she gulped down another two mouthfuls before pushing her plate towards the waitress. She said thank you, but turned her attention quickly back to Louvel, hoping there was more to tell.

He smiled at the waitress, letting her know he too was finished and thanked her also as she took his plate away. He put the bottles of wine back onto the table and replenished both their glasses.

He smirked as he met Tiene's expression. Without further ado, he concluded his story. "So, I thought I would ask the honourable Shing to teach me such moves..."

"And did he?" Tiene asked before Louvel could utter another word.

"Yes, he did," he replied. "I know moves Tiene which are not part of a rogue's formal training, and I think - you may like to know them also."

And there it was. Irrefutable proof Louvel had guessed her predicament. He was offering her a means to 'deal' with it. "Oh, yes!! I most definitely would," she said, her enthusiasm almost palatable.

Louvel leaned over the table, his voice lowered. "You must understand, though, these moves take time to master. It took myself about a year to a year and a half to perfect. They are all about hitting the right pressure points, in the right way, Tiene. Even places on someone's arm, giving the correct pressure, can take the legs out from under them. Imagine, Tiene! Imagine being able to paralyse your enemy and how delicious it would be watching their face as you inform them you know all their secrets, their wrong-doings, and then they realise they had gravely underestimated you and your abilities."

Her eyes were almost wild, feral. "Yes!" she hissed. "You must teach me Louvel. I have to know this."

Louvel sat back in his chair, satisfied. He lifted his glass, she raised hers, and they clinked them together.

"To...?" he asked.

Tiene smiled. "To us, Louvel," she replied. "To friends."

Tiene walked back to the guild headquarters about two hours later and surprisingly, wasn't nearly as drunk as she thought she'd be. It was probably thanks to Louvel's insistence Tiene ate something and the fact she was pretty sure the rascal kept her interested in his stories so he could polish off most the wine himself.

She didn't mind in the slightest. Louvel's company had been a welcome distraction from what awaited inside the walls of the Crimson Blade. Louvel had offered to escort her, but she declined, politely and bought him another bottle to make him stay put. They arranged to meet the following day and Louvel would start teaching her the way of the monk - all going well.

On reaching the complex, her eyes scanned the courtyard and the stables. No sign of her Lord and Master yet.

She made her way up to her rooms, and for some inexplicable reason stopped to listen if any sounds were coming from Sauren's chamber. Oddly, there was some noise in there. She pressed her ear closer to the door, puzzled, curious - she knew he wasn't back yet.

"Is everything alright, Tiene?"

Ella's voice startled her, and she jumped back from Sauren's door. "No! I just thought I heard someone in the Guild Master's room and I just noticed he wasn't back yet."

"Ah, it will be Shada, she is preparing his room for when he returns later tonight. I was actually on my way to help her, but do you need anything?"

Tiene took a moment to think, thankful Ella had not thought anything untoward of her listening at Sauren's door. "Erm, I could do with a bath."

"Right away, " Ella said with a smile. "I will get some maids to fill your tub." Then she hurried down the stairs.

Tiene turned and entered her chambers. The first thing she did was put the wooden butterfly beside the Camnath's letters. She had bundled them together and bound them with a pale blue ribbon. She'd resigned herself to the high probability he would never write to her again. That hurt so much. But it was unrealistic to think he would put pen to paper for her after what had happened. He would no doubt hear of what was going on. It was never any surprise that so-called, closely guarded secrets, somehow managed to worm their way out through the network.

She looked lovingly at the bundle of letters. She wanted to open them again, to hear Camnath's gentle voice in her head as she read his words, but decided against it. It would just make her cry. She still loved him so deeply. It was painful enough seeing his face in her mind's eye, firstly as the grass-stained boy in Quel'thalas, but latterly the vision always changed to the man who walked away with hurt in his eyes. And doubt; she would never forget the doubt. It would be a very long time indeed before that pain would subside if indeed it ever did.

After a while, four maids came with large buckets of hot water, followed quickly by another four and yet another. Ella brought some scented oils for her to use in her bath, along with some fresh towels. Tiene thanked her and then Ella left.

The water was soothing, and the fragrance pleasing. As Tiene soaked, she started to relax taking some comfort in the things she had learned over the past two days - Aledine's voyeuristic tour and words of advice, and Louvel's promise to teach her a style of fighting not known to the typical rogue.

She knew it was going to be a long haul, but she would see it through. Now, she had to also listen to what was going on in the outside world. There would be signs of Sauren's plans; you just had to know where to look.

She was sure Brett, Lexie, all those loyal to Sa'themar still, and hopefully Belaen Bloodbane - if indeed Camnath passed on the news as Brett believed - would all rally too.

The sound of horses galloping into the courtyard brought her out of her reverie.

Sauren was back.

Quickly, she climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, patting her skin dry. Then she vigorously brushed her hair, making it glossy — next, a generous dab of scented water behind her ears.

His voice echoed across the courtyard as he told the stable boy to tend to the horses.

Aledine's advice sounded in her head: "Don't be afraid, it is only your body. Learn to enjoy it; it will make your predicament easier to bear. Even without love, Tiene, it can be pleasurable."

Now to try and follow that advice, Tiene told herself.

She climbed into her bed. Carefully, she spread her hair over the pillows, then lay waiting, trying to calm her nerves. It was still all new to her, but she could not deny, it had felt good.

She could hear him bounding up the stairs and entering his rooms. Then her door opened.

Her breath hitched as she listened to the sounds of him moving in her chamber; the riding boots, slowly crossing the outer room, the sound of a heavy jacket hitting the floor and scuffling as the boots were removed and clobbered down on the sumptuous rug. She watched the corner of the doorway to her bedchamber.

The tall, athletic frame came into view, and Sauren pulled off his shirt, his tattoo flexing with his every breath. His eyes locked on Tiene.

She noticed he carried one of the small vials in his right hand. Her eyes quickly rose up to meet his as he started undoing the ties of his leather britches. His eyes, ablaze, watched her reaction as he rid himself of them. He was more than ready to pleasure her. He had absolutely no inhibitions whatsoever - he knew he looked good.

A blush spread from her neck up over her cheeks. Sauren's mouth curved in a smile.

Standing beside the bed, he towered above her. He was physically magnificent; on that count, Lexie had not been wrong. He handed her the vial with lilac liquid. She drank the contents, and let the empty bottle slip from her fingers. Sauren pulled back the sheet, climbed in and made her his.

She fought down the shame, focusing instead on what Aledine told her - "Concentrate on his touch, his kiss."

Allowing her body to carry itself through natural responses, she got through that night. And it was far from unpleasant.

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